


our baby maknae

by sopetastic



Category: GOT7
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Emotional Manipulation, Kim Yugyeom-centric, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-26 13:26:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17746706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sopetastic/pseuds/sopetastic
Summary: in which yugyeom has some problems, but everyone is there for him





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is gonna be rough, so i hope yall are ready uwu sorry in advance haha

Yugyeom, for as long as he could remember, craved and sought attention from people who were never going to give it to him. Maybe it was the naive side of him that kept him coming back, promising to himself that this time would be different (Even when all the tell-tale signs told him otherwise). Maybe there was a masochist side of him who enjoyed the amount of suffering he put himself through (Yugyeom didn't like thinking that theory was true). All he knew was that he'd been stuck in this cycle for years and years, but he couldn't–he would't do anything to break out of it.

The part that hurt perhaps just as much as the lack of attention was the attention he did end up getting. His brother's personal jeers at school to fit in with his friends (and his two-faced concern and apathetic apologies the minute they got home). His dance friends taking every possible moment to criticize his clothing style, his moves, his innocence (laughing when he tried to hide his tears from them after a harsh prank). His teachers' disapproval constantly shown at his grades and lack of understanding (while mocking his dream of becoming a dancer). His mother's screams of agony and pain as she blamed him for everything that had gone wrong (sometimes even wishing Yugyeom had never been born in the first place). And his father...

No one quite scared him like his father.

One second the man would wrap his muscled arm around the younger's shoulder, cracking inappropriate jokes about a girl (that Yugyeom knew from school) walking by. The other second he would be dragging Yugyeom by the neck into the nearest room to play their "little game."

Yugyeom hated that game.

It made him feel helpless, as if he had no freedom to move his limbs or have his own feelings. He didn't know if he was feeling excited or scared or happy or embarrassed. He remembered the first time his father showed him the game. Yugyeom was hesitant, overwhelmed by all of the new emotions and feelings that could come from just one touch. He shook his head when his father tried to come closer, earning a slap so hard it caused him to throw up all over his bed. He couldn't go to dance practice for a while afterwards, missing crucial group practice nights.

After countless, sleepless nights of crying and begging to no one in particular, it seemed as though things were going as planned. Yugyeom's dance group had been practicing for years and years for a well-known dance competition that brought many scouting agencies. They had sent so many applications, and the relief that spread through the room could be felt when they got the acceptance email.

Yugyeom heard a bunch of cheering from the other side of the room. He felt awkward sitting on the couch by himself as he watched the rest of his group form a circle to comfort each other. He was the youngest–the maknae of the group– at age 13, while the rest were 14 to 17. He always felt as if they knew more than him, as if he wasn't good enough to be in their presence. So Yugyeom kept his distance, making sure he never said anything to interrupt them (it wasn't as if they even noticed, with how scrawny and tiny he was).

"Okay, team. For some of us, this will be our last chance to prove to the scouters that we have what it takes to become a trainee." Their leader, Dongsun, spoke fiercely, as if there was a sense of finality to his thoughts, "We're going to go out there and show them all of our hard work. This is the one day I'm not going to tolerate mistakes."

Yugyeom could slowly feel the pressure building in his stomach. While before, he was carefree and even excited about having a chance to perform in such a high-scale event for the first time (and maybe even for years to come), he had not once considered the rest of his group who would not be so lucky if he were to perform badly.

Wasn't he such a bad maknae?

"Hyung," Yugyeom heard his voice all out before his mind could even process the energy required to stop it. He felt his face begin to burn at the sudden attention on him, but he tried to stay strong regardless, "E-even if we don't win or do good, it was still fun to get to know you guys a-and become friends."

Almost immediately, the group bursted into laughter, as if Yugyeom hadn't just put his vulnerable and personal thoughts out for everyone to hear. Hyungsu, the eldest, seemed genuinely annoyed, his face scowling by the second, "You never hesitate to make the mood even worse than it should be, huh? Who asked you to join the conversation? Can't you do your job for once, maknae?"

Yugyeom instinctively grew smaller, trying his hardest not to let tears fall as he felt him curl more and more into himself. Of course. The maknae was supposed to do whatever the others told him to do. The maknae had to make everyone happy and keep the positive mood.

What he was doing– bring up his personal feelings, bring up things that could upset the other members, things so irrelevant to the conversation– that only did harm.

"I'm–I'm sorry, hyung. I didn't mean to–"

"I'm sorry- You're always apologizing like a fucking child robot. Can't you say anything else? Instead of always making weak excuses." It seemed as though the rest of the group was ready to complain, ready to pounce on Yugyeom now that they were offered the chance to say something. Even Munhee– the second youngest, someone he considered a close friend–had a grown on his face, unable to meet eyes despite laughing and joking with him a few minutes ago.

They never cared about you.

"You better not screw things up. We only have this one chance, and we don't want some child ruining it, because he still can't dance."

You can never do anything right.

"Oh my god, is he actually crying? We're stuck an actual fucking child. this is so embarrassing. Can't we just leave him here? He's such a bad maknae."

Bad maknae. Bad maknae. Bad maknae.

Yugyeom couldn't even say anything in response in an attempt to stop the bile from quickly rising up his throat. He could barely feel the tears rolling down cheeks, too focused on the mantra repeating again and again and again in his head. What did he even do? Yugyeom was just trying to do his best but even opening his mouth for two seconds was enough to cause everyone to turn on him. How was he going to find another group to dance with? He didn't want to quiet his dream. Yugyeom couldn't go back to his school in shame, couldn't show his face to all the people who told him he couldn't when he was just so close.

And in that moment, as if the universe and stars aligned with one another, the moment that perhaps changed his life the most– a soft "are you okay?" followed by the most comforting hug he had gotten in his life. It made Yugyeom feel so soft. Much more soft than he was used to, but rather than feeling embarrased, it made him feel as though he could relax. As though he could breath for the first time in a while.

And so he did.


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was as if everything in Mark’s life was meant to lead him to this boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the rest of the members will slowly be introduced now <3  
> thank you so much for all of the support!! i'll try to update as much as possible uwu

Mark wasn't very sure what came over him at that moment and made him comfort the crying boy in front of him. He couldn't have been older than twelve, perhaps thirteen at most. Mark was definitely on the introverted side, afraid of upsetting others because of how he was raised in America (now that he was in a foreign, more conservative country). However, he considered it a universal necessity to comfort those who need it.

And so he quickly went over, wrapping his skinny arms around the boy as gentle as he could. He could feel trembling every few seconds, his heart aching at the pure pain he could feel in every breath. Mak wanted to know this boy–he wanted to know his story, his life, his problems, his everything,

It was as if everything in Mark's life was meant to lead him to this boy.

Eventually the boy calmed down enough to open his innocent brown eyes, wide and full of tears. He watched as the boy tried to open his mouth to say something but only pathetic coughs came out. The tears began to well up once again.

"Shhh, shhh. It's okay, baby. It's okay. Don't cry, okay?" Mark tried to make his voice as quiet and comforting as possible, combing his fingers gently through the boy's hair, watching as the breathing began to calm down. He couldn't help but admire how pretty the younger was. His dark brown hair covered his sparkling brown eyes, so full of pain and innocence, his smooth skin sprinkled with brown moles and glowing as if he were an angel. It made Mark want to hurt whoever made the boy cry (even though it had been years since violence was an option in his mind).

Mark wiped the remaining tears before slowly readjusting the boy into a more comfortable position. The boy shivered, letting out a tiny whine as his eyes darted around, as if he couldn't remember how he got there. Mark cooed, continuing to pet his hair, "You okay?"

"S-sorry." The boy's voice was higher than Mark expected it would be. Looking back, he should have expected it. The boy was a bit bigger than someone his age, but everything about him radiated  _small_ and  _protect me_. He didn't mind though, pulling the younger closer to his chest.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Your suit–"

Mark looked down at his outfit, which was, in fact, now stained with tears and snot. A few years ago, he probably would have gone into an uncontrollable rage, hissing out harsh words and pushing everything out of his way. Now the thought of anything remotely similar made him sick to his stomach. (Was he really that violent before?)

"I can wash it. Don't worry, okay?"

"Okay..."

Pushing the younger boy's hair out of his face, he noticed he was looking down, trying to avoid eye contact. Mark tapped the bottom of his chin to make him look up, "Do you mind telling me your name?"

"I'm Y-yugyeom."

Yugyeom. The name rolled off his tongue.

"Yugyeom? A pretty name for a pretty boy. I'm Mark."

The elder didn't miss the blush that was slowly rising on the boy's face as he quickly shook his head, "No! N-not pretty!"

"What do you mean? You're the prettiest boy ever!"

"N-no! 'M not! Boys aren't  _pretty_!"

The American boy couldn't help but notice the slurred, almost childish way that Yugyeom was speaking. Even though he was not close to fluent in Korean, he could tell the boy was most likely very tired. Mark also kept a note on the "pretty" comment–it brought pain to his heart knowing the boy couldn't view himself as pretty.

Mark felt a smile form when Yugyeom began to yawn, tiny hands coming up to rub at his eyes, "You're tired, aren't you, baby? Let me get you to a room."

•••

Yugyeom closed his eyes, feeling the previous weight on his shoulders leave his body, feeling more refreshed and relaxed than he had ever been. For some reason, he trusted Mark, someone he knew for only a few minutes, more than anyone previously. He wanted to stay in this soft embrace forever. 

"I wish you could see how pretty you are."

His face blushed at the comment. The only person who called him  _pretty_ was his father, and he  _really_ really didn't want to think of that man right now. Yugyeom hated how confused the word  _pretty_ made him feel, " _Not_ pretty."

"Okay, okay, Gyeom. I won't call you that if you don't like it."

_ Relief. _  Many people in his life had lied to him, telling him one thing and doing another. It made Yugyeom question whether or not  _he_ was the one making up a different reality.

But Mark. Yugyeom  _trusted_ Mark. Mark wouldn't do that.

Yugyeom felt himself get lifted off the ground, surprised by the other's strength. He was, by no means light, but Mark made him feel so  _small._ He subconciously wrapped his arms tighter, snuggling his head into the elder's neck. He tried to ignore the  _aww_ _'_ s coming from above but ended up smiling anyways, unable to contain the emotions he felt from all this  _attention_

He didn't know where they were going, but he felt  _safe_ and that was all that mattered. After a minute of turning hallways and the air scent of Mark's collar, he finally felt the walking stop. He felt his legs touch the comfy surface of what he guessed was a bed. Yugyeom tried to open his eyes but quickly closed them when he got a blast of light. He let out an involuntary whine.

"Aww, I'm sorry, baby. Let me dim the lights so you don't hurt your eyes again."

After he got the okay, Yugyeom slowly opened his eyes. THe first thing he saw Mark's big smile, how the other looked at him as if he was the only person on Earth. It made him feel so, so special. But he couldn't help but remember the last time he was stuck in a room by himself, "H-hyung, I don't wanna play today. Don't feel so good..."

Mark's eyebrows furrowed.

Yugyeom instantly knew he said the wrong thing, feeling all previous happiness and bliss leave his body. He  _knew_ he shouldn't have pushed his luck like that. After everything Mark had done for him,  _of course_ he was going to want something in return. Just like his father.

"What do you mean?" The elder's voice was still soft with a hint of confusion.

Yugyeom squirmed around in his spot, trying to avoid Mark's eyes. Why was he always so selfish, so inconsiderate of others. Mark was so gentle. He was so  _nice_ to him. He had to do something in return. This time. This time was going to be different.

He reached up and kissed Mark on the lips, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group would never be complete without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! happy late valentine's day!!  
> i'm back with another update! this one might be a bit longer, so i hope that's okay haha!  
> thank you so so much for all our nice comments!! it has really helped me find inspiration to keep writing <3

When Yugyeom mentioned games, Mark didn't know how to react. At first, he thought it was perhaps him not fully understanding Korean (and therefore not being able to properly translate what the younger said). All he knew was there was genuine fear in the boy's eyes, and that made him want to protect.

Which is why he was caught so off guard with the sudden kiss.

It wasn't like he  _didn't_ want to kiss a boy (in fact, he would much rather kiss another boy than kiss a girl). It was the fact that it was  _Yugyeom._ The feeling of Yugyeom's lips hesitantly touching his made every part of his body nauseated. He scrambled to reach the nearest trash can, barely making it before his last meal days ago was thrown up. Everything screamed  _disgusting, disgusting, disgusting._

So many questions began to run in his mind: Why would the boy just  _kiss_ him like that? Was that his first kiss, or did the boy kiss other people before? How could Mark let something like that happen? What would his band mates, his manager, hell, his  _parents_ say if they found out?

"H-hyung?" A worried voice made itself known from across the room. Mark wasn't sure he could open his mouth, let alone  _say something_ , without more bile coming out. But one look at the younger boy and he would do  _anything_ to make the smile from earlier return. Yugyeom was sat on the bed with a quivering lip, his cheeks blushing madly, "Hyung, it  _hurts_ "

"G-gyeom, I don't know what you m-mean."

He watched in horror as the boy pointed to his crotch, whimpering softly, " _Hyung_."

Mark had been expecting  _many_ things when he first approached the younger boy. He was expecting anger, fear, clinginess, confusion, even more crying. Typical symptoms of being alone and sad. He wasn't, however, expecting to deal with such a toxic mindset from someone so young. Yugyeom was practically under his thumb right now. Mark could do  _anything_ he wanted. He could ruin any innocence remaining in the younger boy.

And Mark... he  _liked_ it.

He had never had so much power over someone before. All his life he had been pushed around both physically and mentally. After all, his lanky arms and meek personality couldn't do much to stop it. Being put in such an authoritative position made the evil side of brain thrive, telling him to do something about it–to take advantage of this  _one_ time. But that only went against every personal rule Mark made for himself when he signed the contract to become a trainee and eventual idol. He wouldn't hurt anyone, let alone hurt  _Yugyeom_ , and that was  _that._

Surprisingly, the voices in his brain went away.

Yugyeom seemed to notice Mark's hesitance, his eyes watering, "I'm s-sorry. I don't know w-why I'm feeling like this. I'm  _disgusting_ -"

The elder instantly shook his head at Yugyeom's words, placing his hand on the nearest cabinet to keep himself from falling over, "No,  _no_ , please don't apologize. It's not your fault. It's mine. I shouldn't have let you do that. I should have known."

"But you looked so upset. You've done  _so_ much for me, and I wanted to thank you–"

" _So much?_ Yugyeom, I was just being  _nice._ You shouldn't have to thank me for doing what any normal person should do."

"I-No one has ever held me like that when I cried. It felt really nice. I  _have_ to thank you."

Mark almost fainted when he saw Yugyeom start to get out of his position on the bed. Fearing a repeat of the kiss, he shook his head furiously, "Please don't do that again. You don't have to do anything in return. I promise."

The elder felt a wave of guilt hit him as he watched the boy instantly stop at his words. For a second, there was no movement, no sound. Nothing existed outside of Mark and Yugyeom as they made eye contact, as if they were analyzing every last detail of each other. Mark felt as if he stopped breathing as he observed the younger. He could see a range of emotions–from gratitude to resentment to fear to plain old tired.

The one that hurt the most was the amount of confusion radiating from the boy. It was obvious that Yugyeom didn't know what what he was doing or why he was feeling the way he did. He didn't know why kissing strangers, especially those who were so much older than him was wrong. He thought that people who were being nice to him wanted and  _deserved_ something in return.

Mark could see the signs of abuse and manipulation from miles away–after all, he and his bandmates had gone through similar situations. Every trainee and idol had their problems, even if their companies tried their hardest to remove any flaws and project the ideal, perfect person to the public. 

But the difference between them and the boy in front of him was it had been  _years_ since they all recognized their mind had been negatively influenced. They were all in the process of healing and learning to become their own person, even when others tried to control their every movement and mind.

Of course they had their bad days: when Bambam became doubtful and wary of their intentions, when Youngjae couldn't seem to get out of bed in the morning, when Jinyoung laid awake in bed until he couldn't hear cars driving by, when Jackson insisted on having another strict diet, when Jaebeom beat himself up for any mistakes the group made.

(After all, they were still young.)

But they would always have their good days: Bambam letting himself be coddled and taken care of, Youngjae waking up  _extra_ early to cook breakfast for them, Jinyoung laughing at  _missing dad_ jokes and cracking his one ones, Jackson shooting finger guns at his reflection in the mirror, Jaebeom pointing out their mistakes and speaking up when a problem arose.

They would laugh at their past, laugh at those who tried to make them someone they weren't, laugh at how far they had become.

 _That_ was what Yugyeom was missing. Confront the problem was the first step the group took to have a more positive mindset  and mentality. Mark could tell the boy was still stuck in a vicious cycle of negativity that was definitely not beneficial for anyone. Especially someone so young and impressionable.

He watched as memories flied past his head of late night dance practices, of comfortable silence, of having to comfort panic attacks. All from the years they had spent together. Except this time,  _Yugyeom_ was there. It was as if Yugyeom was always there with them. Mark could  _feel_ it. The group would never be complete without him.

But for now, the younger boy looked as if he needed sleep and comfort.

"Can you come here, baby?"

Yugyeom began to shuffle over, his eyes betraying fear and worry, which Mark tried to ignore as wrapped his arms around the younger. He wanted the younger boy to know that people could be  _good_. He tried to ignore the sudden flinch at the contact, the labored breathing, the fact that Yugyeom practically melted at the tiniest amount of skin ship.

The two of them sat in that position for a while, a silence that felt more comforting than tense, like they had been missing puzzle pieces that were now finally connected. When Mark began to hear soft snores from the younger, he decided to move to a more fitting place for sleeping. He made his way to the bed, stopping himself from cooing when Yugyeom snuggled his head into the crook of his neck. The moment he placed the boy onto the bed, the younger let out a high whine, arms rising up as if he were asking for a hug.

The childish act almost made Mark laugh out loud.

Before he could make the decision to get onto the bed as well, his phone started to ring from the other side of the room. Not wanting to wake up Yugyeom, Mark placed a pillow into the younger's arms and quickly made his way to pick up his phone.

It was Jackson.

Mark took a deep breath, praying that his band mates weren't in any danger, "Hello? Jackson?"

" _Hyung, where are you? We were supposed to leave ten minutes ago, but we can't find you anywhere. Please don't tell me you got lost or something._ "

Mark shook his head before remembering he was on the  _phone_ , "Don't worry, I'm still here. I'm not lost or anything..." He glanced over to Yugyeom, "I might be a bit busy though."

" _Oh. Wait, what do you mean busy? We don't have anything planned._ "

"I was watching some of the rookie groups practice earlier, and I saw this boy who was really good. I was going to come up to him after our performance, but I saw that he was crying, and his group wasn't there to comfort him. I didn't even see his parents or anything. He said his name was Yugyeom. I brought him to one of the rooms, and he's sleeping now."

There was a brief silence. Mark held his breath.

" _Hyung..._ " Jackson's voice was hesitant, as if he didn't know what to say either, " _You know we can't just steal him._ "

"He doesn't look over twelve. I can tell he's gone through some terrible things. Jackson, you  _know_ I can't.. I can't just let him leave. Without doing something."

Jackson's voice had always been a source of comfort for Mark. Coming to a foreign country without a strong lingual connection to the people he met had been hard, but it all fell into place when the two of them met. Jackson had been learning English for a while, and Mark had been trying to brush up on his Chinese, so naturally they hung out with each other.

They had opposite personalities (Mark wanting to get rid of any embarrassing memories while Jackson did not hesitate to mention and make fun of any situation. Mark finding a physical outlet during his fits of anger while Jackson locked himself away and tried to avoid human interaction), but for some strange reason, they were able to find their personal balance and it just ended up  _working_. Their band mates would always claim it was the perfect example of opposites attract.

Mark knew Jackson wouldn't hesitate to be the voice of reason when Mark was stuck using the emotional side of his brain without considering the reality.

" _I won't tell you to leave him. I know how much you care. Just remember that you can't /force/ him to leave everything behind and come to us. Don't get made at him or his group or his parents if he refuses._ "

"Jackson..."

" _Give him space, hyung. Let him have options. Don't you remember how defensive Bambam got when we implied he had to join? How long it took to regain his trust? We don't know if the boy–if Yugyeom is like that or not._ "

"... you're right. Okay, I'll try my best. But, he's sleeping right now, and I don't want to wake him up. I'll get home by myself."

" _Are you sure? I could wait for you._ "

"Jackson, you have to rest too. We have a long day of practice after our performance today. Go home. You better eat a full meal or I'll beat you up."

" _I can't see you hurting a fly, let alone your best friend_."

"I'm serious, Jackson. If I find out you didn't eat..."

" _Alright..._   _If you insist... I've missed you, hyung._ "

"Oh shush. It hasn't even been an hour."

" _Maybe you mean that much to me!_ "

"I'm hanging up."

Jackson's contagious laughter filled his ears, a sound that always made Mark's heart flutter and filled his stomach with gentle butterflies. Even after the call ended, he was stuck staring at the screen, wondering how lucky he was to be in such a loving group and meet such caring people. But he pushed those feelings aside.

After all, he had someone he had to take care of.

Yugyeom was still fast asleep, his head smushed into the pillow in his grasp. His bunny smile was still largely present on his face. Mark made his way to the other side of the bed, making sure to be as quiet as possible. He sat straight up, leaning on the back of the bed frame. Looking down at the boy, he felt a surge of protectiveness.

He would do _anything_ to protect Yugyeom.

And for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Mark watched as his hand roamed to the younger's hair, his hand combing a familiar pattern.

He didn't even notice when his eyes began to close.

 


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wonders if he will ever see the boy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello~!! sorry this took a bit. i've been busy with my classes <3 thank you for your support as always! i hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Yugyeom knew from the moment he woke up from his sweet slumber he would never experience something so ethereal and soothing ever again. It felt as though all of the worries he had been carrying for past who knows how many years suddenly vanished, nothing more than a distant memory fading out of his mind. He didn’t even care about the lump of heat directly to his left, too dizzy off the intoxicating feeling of serenity. For a second, he could just laid there, letting himself bask in the morning sunlight. He placed a hand in the general direction of the light before slowly letting his eyes open. The room was surprisingly still dimly lit, the only source of light being the sun’s rays shining through the flimsy, translucent curtains. His eyes slowly drifted to his left—another boy.

_Mark_. His name is _Mark_.

He did not have much time to study the other’s face before, a bit preoccupied with crying and freaking out, but he was never one to turn down such an opportunity. Leaning in a tiny bit closer, Yugyeom noticed tiny little moles that adorned Mark’s face (which he excitedly noted they had in common, even if it meant nothing to anyone else). He noticed the way his muscles looked genuinely calm and relaxed, his jaw no longer clenched in worry or fear. It bothered him that the first word that came to his mind to describe the elder was pretty–

Suddenly, out of no where, he realized _Mark_ was in this _room_ with him. _Mark_. He had just met Mark less than an hour ago, how was it already almost morning—

Yugyeom could feel the blood draining from his face as he took in a shaky breath. Surely he couldn’t have been away from home for that long. Or perhaps, better yet, this was all just a dream, and he would hear his mother’s shrieking from downstairs telling him the bus was about to leave. He didn’t have time to consider if darting out of the bed would wake up Mark, who had been leaning his head on the younger’s shoulder. Yugyeom didn’t have _time_. His parents would kill him for breaking curfew.

He stumbled to turn on the power button, his eyes wet at how stupid he had been. Was he really so naive to think he could become a dancer? Was he naive to put trust into other people?

“Whoa, Yugyeom? What’s wrong, baby? Why are you awake already?”

Mark’s groggy morning voice was too _comforting_ , way too nice for him to handle right now. He didn’t deserve this amount of love from a stranger like Mark.

Yugyeom shook his head, hands trembling, “I h-have to go—”

“What? Why do you have to leave so soon?” He tried to push down the guilt rising up at Mark’s worried expression.

“My dad-my parents are going to _kill_ me. I had to b-be back by 9.” Yugyeom’s hands went to his hair, anxiously tugging at the strands, “I’m.. I’m so _stupid_.”

“Hey, don’t do that to your hair. You’re not stupid, Gyeom. You deserved a rest after what you went through. Surely they’ll understand.”

“I don’t. They won’t. I have to go now or else it’ll be w-worse.”

Yugyeom couldn’t wait another second, swinging his backpack over one shoulder before quickly approaching the door.

“Wait!” Time was ticking. He didn’t have any left to waste.

But Mark was good. Mark was safe.

With one hand on the handle, Yugyeom turned his body to face the elder boy. They stared at each other. In reality, it had been just half a second. But to them, it felt like a lifetime, a whole eternity. Mark was holding out some papers in his hands. And then his mouth started to open, “Here. Only if you want to.”

Yugyeom took the papers hesitantly, curious as to what it was but responsible enough to remember the time ticking away. He decided the other boy was worth more in that moment than anything else, running over to Mark to engulf him in a bear hug. The younger mumbled a quiet “thank you” into the elder’s chest, before making his way out of the room. 

He wonders if he will ever see the boy again.

By the time Yugyeom makes it home, he’s trying to take in multiple breaths at once, wheezing and panting in between. His feet were aching and most likely forming blisters, but at least he was back. He was ready to face whatever punishments his parents made up for his bad behavior. But to his surprise, no one was home. He checked all of the rooms in case they were still sleeping, but there was still no sign of anyone.

Sitting on his bed, taking in the comfortable air and looming silence, Yugyeom can’t tell how he feels. On one hand, he doesn’t have to face the consequences today (or maybe at all). On the other hand, his family didn’t care enough to even bother checking on him. The boy let out a sigh, letting himself drop onto his back on the bed. He stares up at the bland ceiling, trying to process everything that had happened.

He had no friends at school anymore. He had no dance group. He had no experience. 

(But at least he met Mark.)

Yugyeom glanced down at the papers that Mark had gave him. For some reason, even the paper looked and felt a lot more expensive than the ones he used for his school projects. He almost didn’t want to make it impure by touching it.

But he was curious. He looked at the first page.

Was he even reading this right? Mark had gave him a _JYP_ audition form. Was this even the right paper? Surely he wasn’t _that_ good. Did Mark even see him dance? This had to be a sick prank (but in the back of his mind, a voice reminded him that Mark wouldn’t do anything wrong). Yugyeom noticed on the top right hand corner was a phone number clearly handwritten in blue ink. He didn’t know who wrote the number, but his gut instinct told him it was Mark’s number. Just when he was about to flip the paper and begin reading, he heard a pair of familiar voices coming from the door.

Yugyeom scrambled to pick up the first notebook he could grab from his bag, shoving the papers inside so he could read it later. He made his way to the couch, trying to make it seem as though he had been there studying the whole time. When the door clicked open, he held his breath, waiting for something to happen. Surprisingly, his parents and brother seemed fine. In fact, the lack of yelling and screaming suggested they were actually in a good mood.

( _The one time they don’t bring him…)_

He glanced up to see his mother sashaying across the room, her hands clutching a fancy purse that he had never seen before. Her face seemed genuinely happy and almost youthful even. Her face morphed into an emotion Yugyeom couldn’t quite describe—disappointment? Disgust? Pity?

“Yugyeom, it’s good to see you putting in effort in your studies for once.” His mother’s smile almost seemed fake, but he took all the praise he could. It was very rare to engage in such a _calm_ conversation these days.

“T-thank you, mother. I am trying my best.”

“Then I expect only the best results.”

Yugyeom could only nod as he tried to ignore the lump in his throat. He watched as his mom made her way up the stairs, not wanting to confront the next person. He heard a pair of loud footsteps at the door, forcing every single muscle in his body to stay in place. The boy did not want to face any more trouble than he had to. However, no words were spoken to him. Not even when the rest of his family had finished making dinner and began eating at the table. Yugyeom, not wanting to interrupt such a happy mood, decided to wait until after they finished before he made himself a meal.

In the meantime, he had something to read. He opened the notebook, which happened to be his math one. He flipped over to the papers sticking out. The form was mostly generic, asking for full name, age, address, height, weight, experience, hobbies, etc.. Yugyeom scribbled down his information in pen, wondering if he could be rejected because of how much he weighed (after all, he had eaten that donut at the competition even after looking over the calories and fats and sugars printed nearby). Surprisingly, the only section that had him stuck was _hobbies_. The only passion he really had was dancing and singing (and even then, singing was a bit of a stretch). Yugyeom decided to just stick with honesty as the best policy and wrote down _dancing_ and (tentatively) _singing_.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, his brother finally pushed back his chair and dumped his dishes into the sink, making his way up the stairs to his room. His mother followed soon after, washing the rest of the plates before grabbing her keys and exiting the house. (Yugyeom probably would not see her until a few days after, but he still couldn’t bring himself to tell her goodbye).

That left only his father at the table.

Yugyeom stole a quick glance to make sure the coast was clear. The man was sitting at the table with a newspaper in hand, as if he were a cliche taken directly from an old movie. Now was his chance. He meekly made his way across the room, careful not to make a sound. Once he reached the table, Yugyeom stayed quietly on the side. After a few minutes of leisurely flipping, his father looked up, raising an eyebrow, “What do you want?”

Despite being known as one of the more naive students at the school, Yugyeom knew there was no way his father would sign if he outright told the man it was an entertainment company. But Yugyeom also knew he couldn’t pass up the opportunity of a lifetime.

So he took the risk.

“M-my teacher asked me to j-join a math club, but I need a signature.” He couldn’t breath as he handed over the packet (which was already flipped to the last page). This could end terribly. He knew the consequences of lying, so he prayed to any and every deity out there to _for once_ be on his side.

Yugyeom watched his father’s every facial movement, searching for any sign of distrust or suspicion. He almost began to choke on his own spit when the man signed the paper without another thought. The boy bowed several times, forcing the tears to stay inside a little longer, mumbling out _thank you sir_ ’s. His father waved his hand, dismissing him without another word, sticking his nose back into the newspaper (as if there was anything actually interesting inside). Yugyeom bowed one last time before darting up the stairs, his mind filled with absolute glee and happiness. He didn’t try to stop the waterworks as he fell onto his bed, clutching the application close to chest. Maybe he could finally pursue his dreams of dancing. Maybe he could finally make his parents proud. Maybe he could see Mark again.

For a split second, Yugyeom actually believed this could all work out.


End file.
